


Taste the Gold

by RobinRedR



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Time, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mikasa and Annie being hot awkward dorks tbh, Mild Reincarnation Themes, Minor Levi/Eren Yeager, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinRedR/pseuds/RobinRedR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She was pale in all the ways Mikasa was dark, but they were far from opposites.</i>
</p>
<p>Mikasa meets a lioness. She ends up questioning more than just her sexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste the Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [applecascade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecascade/gifts).



> This one's for you, [Ymir](http://applecascade.tumblr.com/). Thank you for being such a wonderful friend. I was about to write, 'I love you more than you love apples,' but I'm not sure even I could compare to _that_ level of devotion.
> 
> Enjoy, all.

 

Mikasa wasn’t particularly _fond_ of parties.

She had sensitive ears more tuned to the muted hues of piano and violin, whilst the loud, repetitive music of Today’s Top 40 would reverberate in her mind till she felt nauseous. Eren always told her to ‘have a drink, you’ll loosen up soon enough,’ but too much alcohol only ever exacerbated her discomfort. Nevertheless, her brother was quite an avid frat boy; well-known across campus for his fiery temper and good looks, and it was Mikasa’s sworn duty to keep an eye on him where she could. Not even Armin could be trusted to share her burden: throw him into a room full of boys and drinks, and their innocent-nerd-Armin turned into a sexual freak. That had been a rather awkward realization, the first time she and Eren had beheld an intoxicated Armin.

So it was that she ended up leaning against a wall at this kid Reiner’s frat house party, listening to the minutes tick by. Her head hurt, Eren had vanished behind a closed door some time ago on a senior’s arm, and she really would have preferred to be spending her Saturday night on her bed in a blanket burrito. She had compromised, as it was; ditching her usual impeccable and professional attire for casual wear, her hair loose around her shoulders instead of tied up. As a pre-professional law student, she usually had an expectation to uphold.

A faint sigh. Eren had a chemistry lab due on Monday, and she knew without having to know that he’d barely begun processing his data. These kids came here to get away from their troubles, lose themselves in alcohol, music, and sex. She found it distasteful, this purposeful escape from reality, though who was she to judge. She went to the parties too, as much of a sheep as the next person, because a) she was too afraid to let Eren out of her sight, and b) sometimes she, too, could not deny a welcome distraction.

“Someone looks like she’s not having a great time,” rumbled a low voice behind her. Mikasa froze minutely, breath icing in her throat, before she turned around very calmly. No one ever snuck up on _Mikasa_. She was the huntress, always, never the prey. But this girl, like a phantom beside her so suddenly… Mikasa bristled instinctively, feeling the presence of a like mind.

She bristled physically, too, when she noticed the half-smoked joint dangling lazily from the other’s fingers.

The girl caught her gaze, lips lifting at the corners. “Want some?”

Mikasa shook her head tersely, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and took a step to the side. How dare this mouthy pothead steal Mikasa’s corner. She’d been entertaining herself just fine with her dark thoughts on the sheepification of mankind.

The girl shrugged dispassionately. She had blonde hair tied up in a loose bun, blonder even than Armin’s distinctive shock of gold, the kind of tawny-white that felt caught between the colors of the earth and those of the sky. Mikasa examined her features in more detail, watching her out of the corners of her eyes.

She wasn’t particularly attractive: a crooked nose, a scar at the corner of her lips, a flat gaze in her pale eyes. She was pale in all the ways Mikasa was dark, but they were far from opposites. It was the small details that marked their similarity, like the barely-perceptible shifting of muscles beneath the skin that belied their apparent nonchalance, the silent observation of the other.

Mikasa wondered why she was wearing a thick hoodie in a place where the norm was to wear as little clothing as was socially acceptable.

The girl sighed melancholically, then shifted off the wall and strode towards Mikasa. She was surprisingly short when they stood face to face, though Mikasa had no doubt she would punch her squarely in the jaw if she were to point that out.

“You have anywhere else to be? Let’s make out.”

Mikasa ran those two statements through her mind a few times, decided she must have heard wrong, and replied with an, “I’m sorry?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m high, I’m bored, and you’re hot.” Like that just explained everything.

Mikasa struggled silently with a reply.

“If you’re here with a boyfriend, he’s doing a shit job of keeping you entertained, so don’t even pull that line on me.” She grabbed Mikasa’s wrist before any clearer communications could be established in Mikasa’s brain, and pulled her down the hallway and through a door into sudden darkness.

This was… Yes, a broom closet. She was in a broom closet. She was in a broom closet in a stranger’s dorm with another stranger. Good, English was beginning to make sense again. Congratulations, Mikasa, we’ll get there eventually.

She felt someone’s hands on her shoulders, backing her up against the door where there was the most room in the cramped space of the closet. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the dim light, and she could just barely make out the outline of blonde hair now. Panic gripped her insides suddenly, as she realized she’d been dragged right into the lion’s den by the lioness herself.

“Wait—what are you—,” she braced herself against the door, feeling carefully for a handle.

“Well we _could_ take this back into the hallway if you’re that eager to be caught,” the girl replied with an amused lilt to her coarse voice. “But frankly, you don’t seem like the type.”

Before Mikasa could tell her that’s not what she meant, a pair of rough lips covered her own.

Mikasa had kissed a total of three people in her life. The first had been Eren, and it had been an accident, because he’d been going in for a hug and they’d turned their faces the same way and quite elegantly collided. The second had been a certain Jean Kirschtein who had been her first boyfriend for a total of one week wherein they had exchanged a total of one awkward kiss. (It was no coincidence that he also ended up being _Eren’s_ first boyfriend a few months later, and that probably explained a lot.) The third one had been with her current college roommate Sasha, who had wanted to know what it was like to kiss a girl. All Mikasa could remember was stringy lip-gloss and the taste of pizza on Sasha’s eager tongue. (They’d both agreed not to do that again.)

But this kiss was something of an entirely different caliber. The way this girl, this stranger, cupped Mikasa’s cheek to hold her in place, the way she pressed past the seam of Mikasa’s lips in a series of sensual caresses, spoke of experience. She nibbled at Mikasa’s bottom lip, tongue coaxing Mikasa’s out for a duet, and Mikasa felt an involuntary _hum_ escape her own throat. Fingers slid deep into her loose hair, tugging her down, closer, a thumb brushing along the curve of her cheek. The heady scent of marijuana on their breaths infused the air, clung to Mikasa’s lips in clusters of bright color, and she found she didn’t really mind the smell all that much after all.

Her body suddenly felt hot and prickly in a way that was unfamiliar, a craving deep in her stomach that had her arching into the touch, hands finding hips to tug the other girl closer. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as her shirt was unbuttoned and lips found the smooth column of her neck. The girl tugged at the string of her sweatpants, and Mikasa nearly yelped as warm fingers ghosted over her hipbones.

She was spun around almost effortlessly, the girl holding her against the closed door with a steady palm between her shoulder blades.

Hot, then cold, panic laced her throat.

“No… wait…” she murmured.

The blonde fitted her hips against Mikasa’s, warm and solid as she leant against her to mouth at the nape of her neck. “Say stop and I’ll stop,” she said half muffled against Mikasa’s skin; voice a rough timbre, soft with an edge. It occurred to Mikasa suddenly that she spoke English with a light accent. German, perhaps.

The feelings this realization awoke within her resounded with a sense of familiarity in her chest, though she was sure she’d never seen this girl before. When she closed her eyes against the curious swimming of her vision, she could almost taste the soft earthy scent of untouched forest.

Did she really want her first time to be at some stranger’s party in a broom closet?

Honestly, she didn’t really care. And when her partner trailed a finger down her side, slowly, curling around to reach between her legs, she shrugged and relaxed into the touch. She was forced to turn her face to the side sharply to avoid it slamming against the door as the girl rolled her hips against her, sliding a leg between Mikasa’s to spread them apart.

She bit her lip with a faint smile, feeling her skin heat up in expectation wherever she was touched. Damn. This was hot, this… complete loss of control. The girl had her pinned against the door, and she couldn’t move back if she tried. It made the hairs on her arms stand up and her back arch unconsciously into the solid weight of the other.

Her sweats were yanked down unceremoniously, and the girl slipped a finger into her warmth with no further warning but a bruising kiss against her neck. Mikasa grabbed hold of the nearest shelf beside the door and let out a strangled kind of sound, an aching that was bordering on pain racing through her.

“ _Fuck._ ”

“That’s what we’re gonna do,” the girl snarked, and Mikasa was relieved to hear her voice crack half-way through. The girl soothed her with a quiet hum, like a purr. Her free hand slipped under Mikasa’s shirt to trace her abs with feather-light touches. “First time?”

Mikasa nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Then I’ll make it the best.” She felt a grin against her skin, the graze of sharp teeth, and Mikasa couldn’t hold back a smile of her own at the unassuming confidence in the other girl’s demeanor.

 And it _did_ feel good. The girl had strong fingers, contained power in her strokes, not piano-hands like Mikasa’s own. She’d never touched herself the way she was being touched now: rough, sliding into her deep, one finger then two. She held on tightly to the wood of the shelf she was gripping, hips stuttering in a broken rhythm as her bra was unhooked. Mikasa marveled at how those fingers tracing light designs on her breasts and torso were the same that were opening her up so easily, stroking her deep inside. The other girl’s breath was a sharp staccato against her neck, and Mikasa tried to focus on that instead of the trembling in her thighs.

She realized she loved the soft weight of the other girl’s breasts against her back as she fucked her against the door, every slow roll of her hips forcing the fingers deeper inside. The air tasted like the crackle of a forest fire.

“I need--- _ah…_ ” Mikasa swallowed, not wanting to lose her composure. “I can’t come unless you…” She trailed off in a pleased sigh as the girl brushed a thumb over her clit, sharp relief spiking through her at the brief touch.

Her partner laughed lightly, sounding as out of breath as Mikasa herself. “I know. But you look so beautiful and debauched right now; I… can’t have you come just yet.”

Mikasa blushed hot, and she pressed her forehead against the door with a low groan, glad her face was obscured right now. Her embarrassed relief barely lasted a minute, however, because the girl grabbed her hips suddenly and twisted her back around to face her. She dropped her to knees in the same smooth motion.

Mikasa’s eyes widened and she reflexively tried to close her legs, but the girl bit into her inner thigh with a dangerous glow to her reflective eyes, and Mikasa threw her head back, caught. Those eyes shone like a predator’s in the dark. The brimming lust in them filled Mikasa with equal parts power and helplessness: proud that she could elicit such a look in a stranger’s dark gaze, and yet completely at the mercy of their strength.

She bit her lip, breaths coming heavy, stuttering on inaudible whines. She couldn’t make herself last, even if she’d wanted to.

No, not with the way the girl’s warm tongue stroked against her and into her so purposefully, eyes never leaving Mikasa’s face. Her breath caught sharply in her chest and she shuddered finally, cresting a wave of ecstasy, before her legs gave way and she almost lost her balance.

She resolutely kept her eyes open through the last shudders of her orgasm, pleased with herself that she’d maintained eye contact. It felt like she’d risen to and met an unspoken challenge. The girl stood up again and pressed against her with a lazy kiss, tongue brushing a sensitive spot behind her teeth, and Mikasa moaned at the taste of herself on a stranger’s tongue. It was exhilarating.

Her hands wound into the tawny-gold strands of the other girl’s hair, trying to pull her closer, but she was met with resistance this time. The heated kisses faded to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, and then disappeared altogether. Mikasa snapped her eyes open, not having realized she’d closed them.

Wintery blue eyes stared back.

“Good?”

Mikasa hesitated just a moment, but then nodded again. Her voice sounded wrecked when she murmured a quiet, “Thank you.” She wanted desperately to reach out, to press this strange creature against the dusty floor and cover her with her body, try to break her apart with her own fingers and tongue. But then again, she didn’t know the proper etiquette for these sorts of _encounters._ Was she even allowed to reciprocate?

She felt her cheeks heat again when the girl swiped a hand over her lips absently and turned away, but she grabbed her wrist anyway.

“Wait I… What’s your name?” Stupid question, because perhaps it implied too much. Mikasa schooled her expression and continued regardless. “I’m Mikasa.”

The girl stilled, something akin to panic flashing in her eyes. Her gaze flickered over Mikasa’s face, and then slid away towards the closed door. For some reason, the power had shifted to Mikasa’s hands, and she didn’t know what she’d done to earn that responsibility.

“Mikasa,” the blonde repeated with that beautifully foreign accent, and proceeded to disentangle herself from Mikasa’s loose grip. “Okay.” Mikasa let her go without a fight. “Thank you for making my night. I have to go, though.”

And that was the last they saw of each other that evening.

 

***

 

Mikasa was _not_ a stalker. It had been pure coincidence that she’d been absentmindedly browsing her Facebook wall when she’d stumbled across a photo Eren had commented on earlier that afternoon.

 

> **Eren Jaeger (meister)** liked this post:
> 
> **Reiner Braun** 21 hrs
> 
>                         Pizza night & Team BRA – _with **Bertholt Fubar** and **Annie Leonhardt**_

> **Eren Jaeger (meister)** nice pun lol

 

The picture depicted that boy Reiner who’d hosted the frat party last weekend, in the process of draping a black lace bra over another boy’s head. The tall brunet was apparently trying to eat a slice of pizza, his expression caught between exasperation and panic, probably at the presence of the cellphone. The girl in the photo wasn’t looking at the phone camera, but Mikasa had long since committed her face to memory: she’d recognize that smooth jaw line and crooked nose anywhere, now.

_Annie… Leonhardt_ … She hovered her pointer over the name. Annie’s profile photo featured her with an arm slung around a massive black shepherd who was probably larger than she was. Mikasa hummed with amusement.

Two mutual friends, apparently, one of which was… none other than **Sasha Braus**. Mikasa turned around slowly in her seat, surprised to see her roommate actually occupying her designated half of the room. Sasha was usually out with friends until late every night, and Mikasa had gotten used to coming home to an empty room.

“Sasha.”

The other girl started, glanced up, and pulled an earbud out of her ear with a questioning look.

“Do you happen to know an ‘Annie Leonhardt’?”

Sasha popped a bubble of chewing gum, excitement making her sit up straight. “Hell yeah I do! She volunteers at the animal shelter with me and Con. Why? You _know_ her?”

Mikasa didn’t answer, save for a contemplative hum.

Sasha grinned knowingly, flopping down on her bed to give her roommate her full attention. “She’s a fresher you know. You’re into younger girls now?” When Mikasa made no further forthcoming remarks, Sasha rolled her eyes. “God, you’re no fun, you don’t do the girl-talk. Thank Jesus I have Connie to do that with me.” She leaned over the bed to spit her stale gum into the trash. “She’s in a pre-med track, as far as I remember. So she probably has some classes with your brother, you know.”

Mikasa blinked, and then nodded at her tersely. Sasha laughed, a pleasantly warm yellow, and wished her good luck. Mikasa didn’t bother asking ‘with what.’

 

 

In fact, she fully intended to let the matter be after this. Now she had a name to place with the face, and that’s all she needed.

The reality, however, didn’t play out quite so smoothly.

 

***

 

Her brother was one of those lucky idiots who’d received a dorm room all to himself this year, since Armin had decided to room with Marco across the hall for academic purposes. This meant that Mikasa often ended up in their dorm after her early morning run, making tea for the three of them in the little kitchenette downstairs.

Eren was sighing dramatically this morning. Evidently there was something he wanted to tell her, but he was toying with her to ask first. She humored him and bit the bait.

“What is it?”

He flashed her a sharp grin. “Mikasa, I think I’m in love.”

Eren was leaning against the counter in nothing but his Pokémon boxer shorts, his usual state of undress at this hour of the morning. She sighed, putting the hot water on to boil.

“You think with your dick, you’re not in love.”

“No!” He hoisted himself onto the table and fixed her with an intense look. “This is real. I tripped over him at the coffee shop, and he made me come to the bathroom with him to clean up the mess I made of his shirt. And, Miki, he looks like a Russian dancer or something, those abs…” Mikasa rolled her eyes and checked the water. “I offered him a blowjob in exchange for his forgiveness and he kicked me in the face.” Eren pointed proudly to the light bruise on his cheekbone.

Mikasa dropped three teabags into separate mugs and carried them over, pressing the warmest one into his accepting palm. “How romantic,” she said dryly.

Eren frowned, held onto her wrist as she handed him his mug, and searched her gaze with a worried tilt to his eyebrows. She stared straight back at him, waiting for him to speak his mind.

“What’s wrong?” he finally burst out. She raised an eyebrow in question. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I said he kicked me in the face.”

Mikasa pointedly wrestled out of his grip. “Good for you? I don’t know what you expect me to say to that.” She grabbed her own mug and took a sip, loose hair falling before her eyes to obscure her from Eren’s confused gaze.

Armin dropped into the kitchenette just then, drawn in by the aroma of sweet Assam tea. He greeted them sleepily, hair and clothes in a disarray.

“Hey Armin. I think the real Mikasa’s been abducted, she didn’t even freak when I told her about Levi.”

Mikasa hid her smile in her cup, meeting Armin’s curious blue gaze. “As the real Mikasa’s spokesperson, I can assure you she still thinks you’re an idiot.”

They laughed, and Armin poured a dab of milk into his tea. “ _Is_ there something bothering you, though?” he asked, eyes shrewd under his mussed bangs.

Mikasa hesitated. She didn’t particularly want to bring up the thing with Annie, not because she was ashamed of what had happened, but because she knew it would do her no good to cling on to the memory of her experience. What was done was done… but that didn’t mean she couldn’t talk about it either. These two were her best friends, after all.

“I… met someone.”

Eren _ooh_ ed, setting his hands on his thighs and leaning forward expectantly. “Who! When! Where! How!?”

“Define ‘met’,” Armin chimed in, and Mikasa fought valiantly against the blush that smoothed over her cheeks.

“Eren’s type of ‘met,’” was all she had to say.

Armin promptly choked on his tea.

 

“Oh, I do know Annie,” Eren said after Mikasa had briefly explained what had happened and relayed Sasha’s comments. “She’s the only freshman in my Behavioral Biology lab, one of those smart kids who got bumped up into advanced-level courses.” He grinned. “She reminds me of you, actually, except with Armin’s colors.”

Mikasa wanted to point out that Annie and Armin looked nothing alike: Annie was fluid ice and bright charged static where Armin was steady gold and the blue-steel of winter skies. She held her tongue, though.

“Anyway, I think you should go after her,” Eren was finishing, hands waving around in his voluble passion.

Mikasa stared at him like he’d grown another head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Why? That’s what I would do.” Mikasa sighed. That’s exactly why she _shouldn’t_ do it. “You both had a good time, you should do it again. Besides, you’re… you know, _you._ ” He gestured to her vaguely and flushed. “No one would turn you down.”

“I don’t want to sleep with her again,” Mikasa snapped in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. “Not like that. I… I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel like I’ve sensed her before. If I were to seek her out again, it would be to test those—” she stopped herself from saying ‘memories’, “—impressions.”

Armin nodded, and something flickered in his eyes. He couldn’t see and hear people in the same molten way Mikasa could, but maybe he understood nonetheless. Better than the others, perhaps. “Then do that. Either way, you have nothing to lose.”

 

***

 

And that was what Mikasa mentally repeated to herself, a few days later, as she found herself waiting in front of the laboratory in the Health and Behavior department building. What’s the worst that could happen? A laugh, a rejection; she’d dealt with worse troubles before. It wasn’t like she even knew the girl personally. She merely hoped that her trek across campus from the law school wouldn’t be in vain.

Annie exited the building alone, head bowed, an apathetic slouch to her shoulders. With a placid countenance, Mikasa approached her. She noticed how the girl went rigid at the sight of her, the muscles around her eyes tightening ever so slightly, but Mikasa did not hesitate to address her.

“You’re Annie, right?”

Annie pursed her lips, expression darkening. The silence dragged on between them for a beat too long, before the blonde cleared her throat. “That’s right. You found that girl who ate you out at the party last week, congratulations.” She said it so casually that Mikasa almost didn’t flinch at the vulgar wording.

“You… remember me?”

Annie frowned, then glanced to the side and set her jaw. “Of course, you’re Mikasa Ackerman.” The ‘everyone knows you’ was unspoken, but implied. Mikasa sighed. Perhaps there was some truth to that: Trost University wasn’t massive, and individual accomplishments stood out. She would have preferred anonymity.  

“So that… You just did that because it was me, because… As a conquest, right?” Her voice didn’t rise in volume, but in intensity. “A bet, probably. To see if you could break me, picture-perfect law student and all.”

Annie looked uncomfortable, but Mikasa didn’t let herself be fooled. “I didn’t know it was you that night. Not till you said your name.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly. “You look… different, with your hair down, without the…” She waved vaguely to Mikasa’s fitted cream blouse and dark pants.

Oh that’s right. She’d been wearing sweats and flaunting unwashed hair. How wonderful.

The other girl crossed her arms defensively. “When you said your name I was like, shit, she’s gonna punch me all the way to China.”

Mikasa smiled wryly, feeling the honesty in Annie’s words. “Don’t say that. You’d probably have put up quite a nice fight.”

“Hm. I do have a brown belt in jujitsu.”

Mikasa laughed suddenly, then covered her mouth with her hand in flushed surprise. Annie glanced her way, then at the ground.

They stood, shuffling awkwardly, and this was most definitely not how Mikasa had imagined this meeting going.

“I wouldn’t have beat you up,” Mikasa stated rather unnecessarily, because an uncomfortable silence tasted like bitter tea leaves and felt like crumpled paper at the edges of her vision, and she’d take the nauseating club music atmosphere over this kind of silence any day.

“No,” Annie agreed placidly.

“It was… quite nice, really.” Her cheeks felt hot when Annie turned those flat eyes on her again, a spark of interest in their blue depths. Mikasa steeled herself and ploughed on. She simply didn’t _do_ embarrassed. “I was wondering… I know you probably don’t really do this kind of thing, but I thought maybe you’d like to get a… coffee, or something, together.”

Annie blinked. “I want to say something terribly inappropriate right now.”

Mikasa arched an eyebrow, trying not to wring her fingers together in nervousness. “Yes?”

“You have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night.” Mikasa felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her ears, an odd tingling in her chest like it was suddenly hard to breathe. Annie’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, and she didn’t drop Mikasa’s gaze. “I’d really love to taste you again, but I’m also fine with doing the whole dating thing first.”

Put off and discomfited by the convoluted agreement, Mikasa huffed. “I said a _coffee_ , when did I mention anything about dating?”

Annie’s eyes widened comically, and Mikasa figured that was probably the most emotion she’d ever see out of this girl. “Oh. _Shit._ I didn’t—”

“No, no!” Mikasa held out her hands in submission. She kind of wanted to sink into the floor right now, as this was potentially the most awkward moment of her life. (No, wait: the time her then-boyfriend had broken up with her because he’d realized he was gay for her brother was still uncontestably Number One.) “That’s not what I meant,” Mikasa continued. “I was asking you out.”

Annie ran her fingers through her bangs. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa glanced around for an escape route. Maybe this had been a horrible idea after all. “We’re really quite terrible at this, aren’t we?” She tried to laugh, but it felt hollow and humorless.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before,” Annie surprised her by saying. She looked back at the ground. “No one’s ever really… It’s easier just to stick to sex. I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to leave soon enough. I’m not a very likeable person.”

Mikasa grit her teeth. “Well, _I’d_ like to decide that one for myself.”

Annie looked at her, really _looked_ at her, and Mikasa saw in her drawn expression that depth and familiarity that had intrigued her that night, which proved to her this hadn’t been a mistake.

“Okay,” Annie breathed.

“Okay,” she replied, and smiled at her.

This time their kiss was softer, and Mikasa discovered that in the daylight, Annie tasted like the earth and the wind, and her hair felt softer than a lioncub’s fur as she cupped the back of her nape to pull her closer. Her breasts pressed against Mikasa’s chest with a comfortable weight, and her curves felt right under her questing fingers: it all felt so much more _right_ than all the other innocent kisses and touches Mikasa had shared with previous partners. Maybe it was because Annie was a girl. Maybe it was just because it was _Annie._

Annie’s fingers wound into her hair and roughly tugged out her pony-tail, letting her dark hair spill around them like a curtain to her shoulders. She pulled away in question, delighted to notice Annie following her lips forward instinctively.

“What…?”

Annie tucked her hands into Mikasa’s back jean pockets with a sly shrug. “I like you better like this.” Mikasa didn’t know if she was referring to the state of her hair, or to their situation in general, but at that moment she could not care less.

Because Annie’s moans tasted like honey, and they colored her vision in rich gold.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated ♡ I'm also on [tumblr](http://robin-red-r.tumblr.com/).


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